Finally, we arrive at the final chapter. Thanks everyone, once again, for taking the time to leave me a review and any future reviews you may leave for this chapter. Your thoughts and perspectives on the story are greatly cherished. I know this is an emotionally draining story-both to read as well as write-so thanks for coming along for the ride and encouraging me to write on. (smile)

To Animegoil: Thanks for pointing out the verb tenses oddities. I'm still working on my grammar, learning to spot mistakes, so I really appreciate it when stuff like that gets pointed out.

To jksluver: I saw your review for one of my other fics "Facing Up to Reality" and yup, it has absolutely nothing to do with this story. It actually belongs to a collection of three fics I wrote, focusing on reactions of various crew members rather than on Sanji's death. (sigh) I don't hate him, he's just really convenient to have around as injured/sick/dying. (apologetic grin) Yeah, I know, I'm low on creativity…

And now, the concluding chapter.

Daybreak

Zoro woke to find sunshine streaming in through the window. From where he sat leaning against the cabin wall, he could see the brightening sky outside.

Morning had come.

He straightened his back stiffly, then massaged his neck, feeling the ache in his muscles from sleeping in such an awkward position. How had he fallen asleep like that? He had meant to watch over Sanji until…

He froze. Instantly, his eyes went to the couch and the perfectly motionless figure on it.

That was when he noticed how quiet the room was. No desperate gasps of ragged breathing, no fits of dry, hacking coughing; sounds that were painful to hear but a thousand times preferable to this unbearable deathly silence.

The lead weight on his chest returned, heavier than ever. Zoro closed his eyes and sagged back against the wall.

It was over. They had lost.

Sanji…

He took a deep breath and stood, forcing himself over to the couch and looked down at his crewmate.

The cook was motionless, a kind of complete stillness he had never before seen in any live thing. His face was white as a sheet but relaxed, no longer tensed with pain or flushed from fever. One hand lay quiet across his middle while the other rested by his side. Early morning sunlight shone softly on his pallid features, bringing out the gold in his fine blond hair that fell carelessly across his cheek. He looked serene and strangely fragile, perhaps even faintly ethereal.

Who would have thought that the bastard who was a right and proper pain-in-the-ass when he was alive could look almost angelic in death?

Of course, Zoro thought with a bitter smirk, it's precisely because he's dead.

His head bowed and he turned away with a sigh. But suddenly, he caught a tiny movement from the corner of his eye. Unable to believe what he saw, he spun around and stared.

There! So slight that he had missed it previously. A tiny, regular rise and fall of breathing.

In an instant, Zoro had seized Sanji's wrist with one hand, fumbling for a pulse, while he felt his forehead with the other.

Unbidden, a smile spread across the swordsman's face at the drumming against his fingertips, stronger than and not as slow as it had been last night. The cook was still running a slight temperature but somehow, during the night, the dreadful fever had broken.

It was as he had always believed, Sanji was going to get better.

Stunned by this unexpected turn of events, his knees gave out all of a sudden. And so it was with much surprise, and perhaps some annoyance, Zoro found himself sitting on the floor, still grasping Sanji's hand tightly with his own.

"Hmph! About time, shithead." He grumbled, slowly releasing his hand. The shock and tremendous relief were gradually fading, replaced by a vague irritation he had come to recognize as the feeling the cook always managed to inspire in him.

As if roused by an obligation to reply to the insult, Sanji stirred. His eyelids fluttered and he opened his eyes with a little groan.

For a moment, he lay there, thin, weak and terribly pale, looking awful with blonde hair all disheveled and pain still lingering in his eyes; but awake and undoubtedly alive.

Altogether, Zoro decided as he watched him, it was a rather satisfying sight.

Sanji stared at the ceiling for a bit, disoriented, blinking stupidly up at the rafters, then turned his head to squint sleepily at the sunlight falling on the window. "It's morning already?" He wondered to himself rather confusedly, his voice scratchy from disuse.

"Yeah, it's morning. You're blind or something?"

He glanced over at Zoro, then closed his eyes with a despairing sigh. "Great, just great." He drawled, the familiar note of sarcasm in his voice made Zoro absurdly glad. "The first thing I see in the morning just had to be your stupid, ugly face."

And before Zoro could respond, he rubbed a hand wearily at his eyes and tried to sit up, wincing with the effort. "I can't believe I overslept…need to get breakfast ready…"

He caught his shoulder and stopped him easily. "We've already missed a few breakfasts." Pushing him firmly back to lie down on the couch, he couldn't help but feel a little smug enjoyment at the indignant surprise on Sanji's face at how much stronger than him he currently was. "One more won't hurt."

"A few?" The cook spluttered. "But how…why…?"

"Your stupid wound, of course." He scowled, handing him a glass of water which Sanji accepted with an equally grouchy frown, propping himself up on one elbow to drink. "The infection was pretty bad. You've been unconscious for days. We've tried everything but the fever won't break, and-"

He broke off abruptly. Saying things out loud, remembering what had happened in the past few days, realizing once again how close they came to losing Sanji, made his voice catch in his throat unexpectedly.

…and you almost died…

The band of ice clenched around his heart these past few days, the one that had started to melt when Sanji first opened his eyes, seized up all of a sudden.

He turned away so that the cook wouldn't see his face and tried to shake himself out of the strange mood that had suddenly overcome him, getting very angry with himself.

This is absolutely ridiculous! His hands curled into tight fists, as he sought to regain his composure.

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he spun around to face the cook again. "And do you know how much trouble you caused, you useless piece of shit?" He spat out crossly. "Damn it! Luffy has almost driven everyone mad with his demands for food."

"Bet you were trying to worm your way out of your fair share of work around here." He sneered.

But the anger failed to fool Sanji. He studied him seriously with a small frown, his blue eyes dark and thoughtful. Zoro glared back, annoyed but stoic under the scrutiny.

He didn't know what tipped Sanji off; perhaps it was the shadow of whatever this thing he was feeling reflected in his eyes, or the stiffness in the way he held his shoulders, or even the slight waver in his voice he hadn't been able to entirely disguise. Whatever it was, he saw understanding dawn in the cook's eyes, his expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"Who're you calling useless, cabbage-head?" He challenged in his usual mocking manner. "And funny how the lazy-ass who does the least around here knows what fair-share-of-work is." His voice was dangerously low, like it always got when he was spoiling for a fight, but the look never left his eyes.

And as he passed the empty glass back to Zoro when he held out his hand for it, he grasped the swordsman's hand tightly, briefly; to show that he understood how close it had been, how much Zoro had gone through, and how bad it had scared him.

It was his way of thanking him. His apology for worrying him.

Zoro nodded. This was the way they communicated. It's funny that they fought and quarreled every day, yet all the words they exchanged never meant anything. But a quick glance during battle when they stood together against the enemies, a clasp of the hand or a simple nod, they instantly know what the other meant.

Because the truly important things between friends never have to be spelled out in words.

Suddenly, Zoro found himself grinning, caught between the most illogical wish to give his crewmate a bone-crushing hug and an unexplained urge to beat him up. He did neither of those things. Instead, a low rumble started in his chest and erupted as a throaty laugh which he didn't seem to be able to stop, the tension of the past few days dissolving away with it.

Sanji stared incredulously at him for a moment as if he thought his crewmate had finally lost what little of his mind that was originally present. Then, he shook his head and joined in, laughing till he was wheezing for breath.

Still chuckling, Sanji flopped back onto the couch. "You weirdo."

"Likewise, bastard."

He kicked out at him with a curse, but finding he didn't yet have the required strength and it was impossible to attack properly with his legs under the blankets, he gave up.

"Ah, my poor lovely Nami-san…" He lamented instead, pressing a hand theatrically to his heart. "How she must have suffered these few days without my loving attention and with only such unbearable dolts for company."

"Hn." Zoro raised an eyebrow, smiling darkly. "Your lovely Nami-san wanted to cut off your arm."

"She didn't!" His eyes were wide.

"Ha! Not so lovely now, huh?"

"Well…well…" He floundered for something to say. "Well, she loves me and just wants what she thinks is best for me." He sniffed haughtily. "You're just jealous of me."

He grunted and shook his head, but there was enough truth in that to deny. That woman is gonna be glad I'm right for once, Zoro thought with a smile.

A raspy cough brought his attention back to his crewmate. Sanji was clearly not fully recovered yet. His searching gaze took in the shadows under the cook's eyes and the gauntness of his pale face. And judging by the glassy look in his eyes and the way he was pinching the bridge of his nose tightly as he sprawled limply on the couch, Zoro could tell he was already tired out by their brief exchange.

He needed rest and would do well to lie on that couch for a couple more days at least. Yet knowing Sanji, and the stubborn idiot that he was, he would be messing around that precious kitchen of his before the day was out.

But for now, he was worn-out and fading rapidly towards sleep. He made an effort to stay awake, struggling to keep his drooping eyelids open and mustered a half-hearted frown as he watched Zoro take his arm and started to unravel the bandages.

"The 'ell you're doin'?" Sanji growled drowsily, trying to pull his hand away but was still too unwell to put up any real fight.

"Stop that, will you?" Zoro told him irritably and yanked the arm back with a sharp tug, smirking at the wince it produced. "Got to change the dressing and make sure the infection doesn't come back, dumbass." He snorted in derision. "You weren't awake to see but I don't ever want to fight with Nami for your hand again."

Sanji rolled his eyes and uttered a rude noise. "You have no idea how wrong that sounds."

He blinked and made a disgusted face. "Keep your perverted thoughts to your perverted self, love-cook."

"I'm most certainly not perverted!" He retorted hotly. "Besides, you can't even inspire a single perverted thought in a sow in heat."

Zoro had something snide to say about his crewmate's seemingly intimate knowledge of sows in heat but decided it'll keep. Soon, he promised himself gleefully, when Sanji was looking a little less pale and not half as exhausted as he was now, then they'll have a real fight.

In the meantime, he was content to shoot a fiery glare at him with a sour grunt, and concentrated on examining the wound. It was still red, but the swelling has gone down a fair bit. With care, it should heal cleanly, leaving nothing more than a scar in its place.

Sometime between applying the antiseptic and tying off the bandages, Sanji fell asleep,nuzzling into the pillow with a murmuring sigh. Not the troubled, unnatural coma but a deep healing, restful sleep.

"Idiot." He muttered with a faint smile as he pulled the blanket up to cover the cook more warmly.

Then, he stretched languorously with a wide yawn, scratching the back of his head idly.

He should go train, make up for all the lost time the bastard had cost him. But he was feeling sleepy too. Must be all the nights he had slept poorly these past few days.

All that shitty cook's fault again, he thought sourly with another yawn.

Maybe he'll just take a short nap first…

And that was how Nami found them when she came into the cabin with a heavy heart, filled with dreadful certainty she would find a dead cook and the swordsman proven wrong.

She had to smile as she watched them.

Sanji was sleeping peacefully curled up on his side, breathing easily, the lines of pain faded from his face. A tiniest hint of rose had found its way back into his pale cheeks. And his loyal friend-who had believed in him, who had watched over him and his dreams-slept slumped on the floor nearby, his head pillowed on the edge of the couch, one strong hand resting protectively close to the bandaged one.

A great sense of relief and affection swelled her heart as she observed her sleeping nakama.

With thief light fingers and a fond smile, she drew a blanket carefully over Zoro's shoulders and bent to brush a stray strand of blonde hair from Sanji's face. Then she crept softly from the room, closing the door quietly behind her as she went off to share the good news with the others.

The End

Author's notes:

Okay, that's the end. Yeah, it's a cliché 'miraculous recovery'…ahem (embarrassed cough)…but these things happen, right? (grin) Seriously though, antibiotics are usually used to treat infections. But even without it, the body's immune system can overcome the infection given time and if it is not too serious…yup, so I figured that it can happen in this story.

And don't worry, I don't only have torture planned for Sanji. Like I've said before, I'll write something in which he is relatively pain-free and reasonably happy. Hmmm…in fact, I think I'll write it next. (goes off to write, mumbling) Think happy thoughts, Erithil, happy thoughts! (smile)